Unknown Roads
by RainbowSheltie
Summary: When Brad and Randy's parents find out about their relationship, they are forced to run away. Luckily, Brad has a plan, which involves a soccer scholarship, New York, a university in England and a dorm for married couples. Randy feels like he's living in a dream, until Brad is injured. No matter how far they run, they will never be able to escape the past. Brad/Randy. Incest.
1. Revelations

**Title** : Unknown Roads

 **Series** : Home Improvement (TV)

 **Pairing** : Brad Taylor/Randy Taylor, Tim Taylor/Jill Taylor  
 **Tags** : Romance, Established Relationship, Fluff, Angst, Drama, Travel, Soccer/Football, England, New York, Moving, Moving Out, Drugs, Drug Use, College, Professional Soccer/Football, Misunderstandings, Accidents, Drunk Driver, Car Accident, Marriage, Incest, ICU, Major Character Injury, Prompt Fill, Mark Is Not Innocent

 **Summary** : When Brad and Randy's parents find out about their relationship, they are forced to run away. Luckily, Brad has a plan, which involves a soccer scholarship, New York, a university in England and a dorm for married couples. Randy feels like he's living in a dream, until Brad is injured. No matter how far they run, they will never be able to escape the past.

 **Notes** : This work is based on a prompt Leia gave to me. It sparked my interest because of how detailed it was, so I decided to do something about it. :)

 **Gifted For** : AO3: Leia

* * *

 **BETA** : TheSupernova

* * *

 **Chapter 1: Revelations**

* * *

Randy had returned from Costa Rica two days ago, but being away from Brad for so long had been a test of endurance no man should ever have to face. Which was the main reason Randy had snuck into the basement bedroom Brad and Mark were currently sharing. He wanted a few uninterrupted days alone with Brad. Well, almost alone.

"God, aren't you guys tired yet?" Mark asked, walking into their bedroom. He immediately scrunched up his nose. "It stinks in here."

Brad had Randy on his knees, and was currently pounding the smaller man from behind. They paused, looking over at Mark.

"Are you kidding?" Randy asked, in response to Mark's first question. "Sex never gets old. If it does, you're clearly not doing it right."

Brad snorted. "You know it."

He pulled out of Randy slowly. "And you can't place the blame entirely on us."

"You two have barely left the bedroom," Mark said, slumping down on the computer chair, turning towards the bed. "And you didn't even have the sense to turn the ventilation fan on."

Brad scrounged around for his jeans, putting them on. He turned around, watching as Randy pulled the comforter around him, snuggling in. Brad smiled, and shook his head at Randy's antics.

"Get over here." Brad said to Randy. Randy half-crawled, half-shuffled his way over to Brad's lap. Brad wrapped his arms around Randy.

Mark had shuffled through the bottom desk drawer, pulling out a bag of black and white speckled powder in a small baggy and a small straw. He placed both on the table. Randy eyed the baggy.

"What the hell is that shit?" Randy asked.

Brad placed a hand on Randy's head.

"It's some shit Stevie's mom cooked up in their basement bathroom," Brad said, watching Mark snort line up some power on the table and snorted some up through the straw.

"Stevie's mom is the best," Mark added. "She gives me freebies in exchange for cleaning her house and occasionally mowing the lawn."

Randy sighed. Ever since Mark started dressing goth, he had fallen in with a different crowd.

"What's amazing," Brad said, "is that mom and dad haven't caught you yet."

Mark shrugged. "They rarely come down here. Ever since Brad and I started putting away our own laundry, they haven't had any reason to."

Mark reached into the second drawer down, this time pulling out a small bag of leaves and strips of paper. He reached across the desk to flip on the overhead ventilation fan.

Brad was absently petting Randy's hair, Randy was nodding off and Mark had rolled up a joint and was currently smoking it.

"So Randy," Mark said, "when are you going to let mom and dad know you came back? You can only hide down here for so long."

"Mmm," Randy acknowledged, not really answering the question.

Brad shook his head. He looked over at the clock; it read 11:30 pm.

"Tomorrow," Brad answered for Randy. He looked over at Mark, who in turn, looked almost as zoned out as Randy. "And don't stay up all night smoking. That souped up fan may get rid of the smell, but it's also hard to sleep with that thing going all night."

"Yeah, yeah," Mark responded with a small shrug.

Brad eventually tugged the blanket from Randy and settled them both down under it, almost immediately falling asleep. Mark stayed up for another hour before putting out his joint and going to bed.

* * *

Tim and Jill were thrilled to see Randy had come home. To make it more realistic, Randy had snuck out of the house late at night with his luggage, walked a few blocks over, and called a cab to drive him back to the Taylor house. Randy would be arriving in the middle of the night, but he could just blame it on his flight.

Brad and Mark had a pretty convincing act pretending to be just as surprised as their parents over Randy's arrival.

The upper two bedrooms had been converted to a study (for Jill) and a guest bedroom, since Brad and Mark had been quite comfortable staying in the basement. Although Randy had been offered the use of the guest bedroom, he had chosen to stay on the basement floor.

At least, that's what he had told his parents. In reality, he was sleeping with Brad.

Randy didn't quite know what he was going to do next, whether he wanted to go back to Costa Rica or stay and get a college degree, in a new career path. Randy was edging on staying, because being separated from Brad wasn't sitting right with him.

* * *

The decision on whether Randy wanted to stay or leave was taken out of his hands when Randy had accidently eavesdropped on his parents during a late-night run to the bathroom. Even though his parents had been arguing in the master bedroom, Randy had heard them all the way from the first floor.

Randy couldn't resist sneaking upstairs to find out what was going on.

"… can't stay here," Jill argued. "What about sending him to live with your brother, Marty?"

"Marty?" Tim said. "Maybe. He does have a spare room in his house, and I'm sure he would help us out once we explain the situation."

Randy snuck closer to his parent's bedroom door, which was slightly ajar.

"I'll be happy as long as we separate him and Brad," Tim continued. "Who knows what they get up to down there. Short of installing a security camera in the basement…"

"No," Jill said firmly. "Don't even think about it."

"Well, Brad is leaving for college in a few weeks." Tim said. "We could just wait. Then it won't be a problem."

"No," Jill said. "I don't want him living in this house! We tried our best, but apparently there is too much temptation for him here."

"All right, all right, I'll call Marty tomorrow," Tim responded.

Randy didn't stay to hear more, because he heard one of his parents walking towards the door. He ran back downstairs and flew straight into Brad's arms.

"Mmffm," Brad muttered when he received an armful of Randy. "What ish…"

Brad slurred his words, before falling back to sleep. Randy couldn't sleep, instead staying up the entire night with his parent's' words swirling around in his head.

* * *

 **Original Prompt** : My idea was that when Randy comes back from Costa Rica, Tim and Jill discover their relationship and decide to send Randy off to his Uncle Marty's house to separate them and to try and figure out what to do. Brad and Randy find a way to run away from home, buy a van and live out of that while they go from town to town and find other jobs under new names. Eventually they save up enough to move permanently to another country and they live together happily. But 18 years after they left home, Randy gets pneumonia and goes into a coma. The doctors tell Brad that there's a chance he won't make it so Brad has to make the decision to contact his parents and Mark (Facebook maybe) to let them know.


	2. Betrayed

**BETA** : TheSupernova

* * *

 **Chapter 2: Betrayed**

* * *

"You guys better get out of here," Mark said, leaning against the basement wall. It was the middle of the night, and Mark was clearly high, holding a lit joint in his left hand.

"What?" Randy said groggily. "Who? Oh, Mark, it's just you."

Randy sat up, displacing the covers. He shook Brad's shoulder until Randy heard a muffled groaning sound.

"Ugghf," Brad said. "What time is it?"

"Almost midnight," Mark said.

"Right," Randy confirmed. "So why are you trying to kick us out of here?"

"And how high are you?" Brad said, waving his hand in the air.

"High enough," Mark said, taking a long drag. "And our parents found out about your relationship. I can only imagine what they're going to do to you now."

Mark sounded like he was enjoying the situation a little too much. Brad narrowed his eyes in suspicion, but if Mark had any ulterior motives, he couldn't decipher them.

"Shit," Randy said, immediately throwing off the covers and darting straight for his suitcase.

"Wait, Randy, what are you doing?" Brad asked.

"Packing, what does it look like?" Randy snipped back, sifting through the dresser drawers. Mark walked over to the mini-refrigerator and pulled out a beer, popping open the can.

"Man," Mark said, "it's amazing what you can hide in your room when your parents never come in to snoop around."

Mark sat on his bed, leaning against the wall, beer in one hand, joint in the other.

"They said they were going to split you two up," Mark said to his brothers. "Said it make them sick, having you stay here. They've been talking about sending one of you to Uncle Marty's house."

"No way," Brad responded. "Our parents would never do something like that."

"No, it's true." Randy chimed in. "I overhead them last night. They were arguing upstairs. I heard them all the way from the first floor."

"Yeah, so how did you find all this out," Brad asked Mark carefully.

"Eavesdropping, how else?" Mark took a long drag, and a swig beer. "Plus, I told them."

"What?!" Brad and Mark said in tandem.

This time it was Brad's turn to scramble out of bed. "Fuck Mark, what the hell did you do that for? You've had plenty of chances to tattle on us, so why now?"

Mark shrugged. "It was either you or me. And I rather like living here." He waved his joint in the air. "I'd rather not lose my network, thanks. I get most of this shit for free."

Brad ran across the room, pinning Mark against the wall by his neck. Mark's joint fell onto the bed, and he was barely holding his beer can upright.

"Brad—" Mark choked out.

"You betrayed us," Brad growled. "All this time, and you throw us under the bus just to keep your drug habits! I protected you all this time, and this is how you pay me back?"

"Right," Mark replied calmly. "When did I ever ask you to do that?"

"Stop!" Randy yelled as Brad raised his fist in the air. "Forget it. We have to go. I don't know where, but anywhere is preferable to here."

Brad let Mark go, getting off the bed and stepping back. Brad was angrier than Randy had ever seen, and Mark was back to smoking his joint, grinning. He threw his empty beer can across the room, landing on Brad's bed.

Randy walked over to Brad, grabbing his hand. "Just pack, all right? We'll figure out what to do later."

After a minute, Brad nodded. "Yeah, okay. I think I know where we can go."

"Good," Randy said, and he went back to packing. Mark's eyes were glossing over and he started to sing. Randy couldn't make out the words and the tune wasn't familiar.

Randy startled when he felt a hand on his shoulder. He turned to find Brad standing behind him.

"It'll be okay, I prepared for emergencies like this," Brad said. "I'll make sure we aren't separated, no matter the cost."

Randy smiled, and covered Brad's hand with his. "I love you."

"Yeah, I know," Brad said with a smirk.

* * *

 **End Notes** : Mark is such an ass, but god, I love him, I do. Goth, drugs, and anti-good boy. I've always wanted to see Mark like that... expect to see him crop up again later in the story :3


	3. Intermission

**BETA** : TheSupernova

* * *

 **Chapter 3: Intermission**

* * *

Randy stared out the motel window, his mind blank. The rain was pouring outside, and howling winds blew through the town. He couldn't see the moon through the thick, black clouds.

"Why aren't we staying in NYC?" he asked, while draped over the back of an armchair. "And since when did you buy your own car?"

After leaving the Taylor house, Brad had one of his friends pick them up just three blocks away. They drove to an abandoned house, where Brad had uncovered a red sports car.

"It's a pretty sweet ride, isn't it?" Brad said, from the bathroom. He had a towel wrapped around his waist and was currently towel-drying his hair. "I always feared our parents might try to split us up, so when I bought my car, I made sure to keep it a secret."

"Good idea," Randy replied. "It's much safer than stealing one of dad's cars and expecting to get away with it. He probably installed a tracking device on it."

Brad threw his hair towel on the bathroom floor, and walked over to his younger brother. He pulled the shorter man to his feet.

"Come on, let's go to bed," Brad said. "We have to get up early tomorrow."

"So why didn't we drive up to New York today?" Randy ask, before crawling into bed after his brother.

"Because the place we'll be staying at won't be ready until tomorrow," Brad said. He threw his towel at Randy's head, who threw it back and stuck his tongue out.

"Very classy," Brad said.

Randy slid under the covers and turned off the side lamp. He snuggled up to his lover, placing his head on Brad's chest.

"Where will we be going tomorrow?" Randy asked sleepily.

"Not sure," Brad said, yawning.

He was snoring a few minutes later, with Randy following close behind.

* * *

"So what's the plan?" Randy asked, leaning his head against the car window.

Brad continued to drive past forests and plains, including one crop of corn. Randy wasn't sure where they were, because Brad was using the GPS unit built into the dash board of the car and Randy was banned from touching it. Which was too bad, because it might have been fun. Those units did come with some nice features.

At least it was Randy's turn to control the radio, and he soon had his heavy metal playlist pounding through the car speakers.

"Well, first we'll go to New York and get some temporary jobs at the Mini Mart grocery store, which is a ten-minute walk from the room we'll be renting from Mr. Ed."

"I'll let that one pass," Randy said. "Continue, please."

Brad glanced at Randy suspiciously, before turning back to the road.

"Then we'll get married."

"What?"

"And move to England in August."

"What!?"

"Then move into the school dormitories for married couples at the University of Chesterfield on my soccer scholarship."

"I… we…" Randy stuttered. "It…"

"Pretty cool, huh?" Brad said, ignoring Randy. "It's going to be great!"

"That… sounds oddly well thought out—" Randy said, Brad cutting him off.

"Thanks!"

"For you, anyways," Randy finished.

"Hey!" Brad said, punching Randy's shoulder. The latter laughed.

"Seriously though, when did you come up with all this?"

Brad tilted his head, tapping his fingers on the steering wheel. "Well, it was one of my backup plans. I always intended on taking you away with me when I went to college, whether we stayed at home or went out of state."

"Or out of county," Randy added.

"Exactly," Brad said. "I've been emailing my friends in New York, trying to get everything settled. I just had to move up the time table."

Randy looked over at Brad. "When exactly did you have time to make friends in New York?"

"When I went on that skiing trip last year with Mike and his family," Brad said.

Randy paused. "But there isn't anywhere to ski in New York."

"I know," Brad said, grinning. Randy simply rolled his eyes, and turned back to the window.

"Okay, so don't I get a say in this?" Randy asked.

"Sure. What don't you like?" Brad asked.

"Nothing, but thanks for asking." Randy responded.

"Right, well…" Brad paused, looking at the GPS screen. "We have three hours until we get to New York. Do you have any idea what you want to do? I got us jobs at the mini mart, but you don't have to take it."

"No, its fine. It's as good a job as any," Randy said.

"What were you planning to do about college though?"

"I wasn't planning on going to college right away," Randy responded. "I was thinking about becoming a freelance writer, for newspapers or journals, but I can do that anywhere. Which is why I'm not making a bigger deal out of moving to the United Kingdom. Which, isn't that a bit extreme? Just to get away from our parents?"

"It's not just that," Brad answered. He eyed the radio. "It's my turn."

Brad turned the radio to an AM station, scanning through the channels until he found a sports talk show.

'Ugh," Randy said, but he shut up when Brad glared at him. Fair was fair.

"Truthfully, UC had always been my first choice," Brad said. "I met with some scouts who represented some international universities, including one from the University of Chesterfield. A lot of famous soccer players have graduated from there."

"Huh. That's pretty cool," Randy responded. "So, tell me about this room we'll be staying in once we get to New York."

Brad hesitated. "I think it's better if you wait until we get there. It's hard to describe."

"It's a total dump, huh?"

Brad laughed. "That's not even the half of it."


	4. New York

**BETA** : TheSupernova

* * *

 **Chapter 4: New York**

* * *

"Now, this might be a little cramped for a few weeks," Brad said, as he walked across the room towards a solitary brown door. "It's only $400 a month, which is pretty cheap by New York standards."

The room they were in was empty, but it was rented out by one of Brad's friends, Mike.

"It's a closet," Randy said. He didn't need to see what was behind the door to figure that out.

Brad opened the door.

"It's actually a walk-in closet," Brad corrected.

"I would never have guessed," Randy shot back, though Brad wasn't paying attention.

The 'room' they were going to live in contained a single twin sized mattress. There was about three feet from the door to the end of the mattress, with two feet on either side left over for hanging clothes on a set of thick, wooden bars. There was a shelf just above the clothing bar for storage.

"We're overpaying," Randy said.

"We're lucky to even find a place so last minute for under $1000," Brad said. "This is New York. Just be glad Mike let us live here."

Randy still thought they were overpaying, but he didn't have any experience with apartment prices in NYC to compare it with.

"This still sucks," Randy pointed out.

"Hey, it's the best I could do." Brad shrugged, while setting his luggage off to the right. "I'll have to talk to Mike about some sheets and pillows. He won't be moving into the main room until next month, but he's letting us borrow some necessities."

"What about towels?" Randy asked.

"We're on our own there."

"Great," Randy said, sighing. "At least we're not living under the stairs."

Brad snorted. He punched Randy's shoulder lightly.

"Just get unpacked," Brad said. "I'm taking you out to dinner afterwards."

Randy's ears perked up.

"Where are we going?" he asked excitedly.

"The hot dog stand around the corner," Brad said. "Mike told me they had the best hot dogs anywhere in New York."

"Right," Randy said sarcastically. "Be still my beating heart."

"What was that?" Brad asked. He clearly hadn't been paying attention.

"Oh, nothing," Randy said innocently.

* * *

The job Brad lined up for them, at the Mini Mart, was a small, family-owned grocery store. They needed extra hands during the summer months, and Mike was friends with a friend who was friends with the owner's son. The job consisted of stocking, cashiering, and cleaning.

Which was a lot of responsibilities for two new teenage hires, but the owners, it turns out, where huge Tool Time fans. They loved how the Tim "Tool Man" Taylor "staged" accidents on the set, in an attempt to teach viewers what not to do.

Brad and Randy didn't bother correcting them.

* * *

Randy turned off the small table lamp next to the bed. It was odd, sleeping on just a mattress with no bedframe or side tables.

"Why am I always the little spoon?" Randy complained quietly.

Brad nuzzled the back of Randy's next instinctively. He was barely awake.

"Because I'm bigger than you," Brad mumbled. "And older."

"Like age has anything to do with it."

Brad made some agreeable sound and promptly fell asleep.

Randy tried to squirm around to change positions, but Brad's hold on him seem to be made of iron. Eventually, he just gave up.

* * *

Two months in, and the infamous Mike finally decided to move into the main room. Mike had only one rule, "no loitering in my room", which was easy enough to accommodate, because less than two weeks in and Randy had seen rat's nests cleaner than this garbage heap.

Apparently, Mike never used the main kitchen, because the room was littered with takeout boxes, ranging from Chinese, Italian, Mexican to pizza. Beer cans and juice boxes were intermixed with the laundry.

"Disgusting," Randy said as they walked carefully through the mess to their closet-room.

Brad shrugged. "It's not that bad."

Randy eyed a half-eaten pepperoni pizza slice, which was currently home to enough green fuzzies that it made Randy want to throw up. Apparently mold grew quick around here.

"This makes the basement at our house look cleaner than a hospital floor," Randy said. "More sterile, too."

Brad didn't voice an opinion, but Randy shuffled quickly towards the exit. The move to England couldn't come soon enough.


	5. Fiancé

**BETA** : TheSupernova

* * *

 **Chapter 5: Fiancé**

* * *

"So we're really getting married?" Randy asked Brad, as they strolled through the local park.

"Yep," Brad said. "Otherwise you'll be homeless when we get to Southburgh Cross."

"Where?"

"In England," Brad explained. "That's the city where the University of Chesterfield is located."

"Ah," Randy said. "Sounds very… British."

The trail forked into two halves; to the right the trail led into a small forest while the left led to the street. The sky was partially cloudy, but a sea wind began blowing in from the ocean, signaling rain. It was getting darker, and they hadn't had dinner yet.

"Are you hungry?" Brad asked.

"Depends. Are we going to that hot dog stand again?"

Brad laughed. "No. There's an Italian restaurant I want to take you to."

"This is sounding vaguely romantic," Randy said. "What's the catch?"

Brad grabbed Randy's arm, and stepped in front of him. "What, I can be romantic every now and then, can't I?"

"Mmm. On occasion," Randy confirmed.

Brad gently caressed the side of Randy's face, pulling him in for a kiss. When Brad stepped back, he kept a hold of Randy's hand, pulling them towards the restaurant.

"Osteria Dei Mascalzoni is having a two for one special, with your choice of one free dessert for two," Brad said. "It's a really nice place. Some of the guys down at the sports center recommended it."

Randy thought about it for a minute.

"Good enough for me," Randy said with a shrug.

* * *

The idea of marriage didn't fully hit Randy until they were at the Osteria Dei Mascalzoni restaurant, having just been seated at two-seat table near one of the floor to wall windows overlooking the street.

Whatever the reason, Randy was going to be _married_. As in, life partners, joint bank accounts, couples therapy, and Mr. and Mr. Randy Taylor checkbooks. Even if they were getting married just for housing purposes over in England, marriage was still marriage. It wasn't even fake marriage, there was going to be a totally bona-fide legal document stating they have pledged to spend the rest of their life together, barring future grounds for divorce.

Although, getting married to Brad wasn't so bad. Randy hadn't actually had plans to date anyone other than Brad; he had almost taken it for granted that they would always be together.

Now was their chance to prove it. Randy had hoped that it would be slightly more romantic.

"Randy."

The sun was setting, pinks and oranges lighting up the sky.

Brad tapped Randy on his hand.

"Randy," Brad said again.

"Huh? Oh, sorry," Randy apologized.

A waiter in a black tuxedo stopped by their table with two menus.

"Would you like something to drink?"

They ordered two drinks, and side glass of water for Randy.

"Right away," the waiter said, before leaving.

"So, what's bothering you?" Brad asked. "You've been distracted ever since we got here."

Randy stalled, by taking the cloth napkin and placing it neatly on his lap. Brad did the same, though not with the same level of attention.

"Come on, Randy. Tell me."

"Okay, okay," Randy said. "I was just thinking about our marriage. I mean, is that all it is to you? Free housing?"

Brad shook his head.

"Of course it's not," Brad said. "I love you, and I'm never going to love anyone else. It will always be you, Randy. I want us to always be together."

"That's so sweet, Brad," Randy said. "But…?"

There was usually a catch to this.

Brad shook his head, sighing.

"No buts, Randy. I love you." Brad grabbed Randy's hand. "I have something for you."

With Brad's other hand, he pulled something out his coat pocket. It was a small, royal blue velvet box.


	6. Just Kidding!

**BETA** : TheSupernova

* * *

 **Chapter 6: Just Kidding!**

* * *

Brad pulled a small, royal blue velvet box out of his pocket. Randy felt like a teenage girl getting asked out on her first date; the excitement, enthusiasm and overwhelming nature of it almost threw him for a loop. He stopped to take a drink of water, before reaching out for the box.

A wedding ring, or was it an engagement ring? Both? Randy wasn't sure exactly how those things worked, but it didn't matter. He would take what he could get.

Randy's imagination ran wild, as he flipped the little box over in his hands. He thought he heard Brad call his name, but Randy was too distracted to notice. What kind of ring would Brad get him? Surely not one too girly or feminine, but if it had a few diamonds inset into a band, Randy wouldn't exactly say no. Diamonds were everybody's friend.

His hands shook slightly as they pried the lid and base apart, opening the box slowly. Randy held his breath…

And immediately took a dumbfounded one.

It was a large, golden class ring, belonging to the University of Chesterfield. The school crest was emblazoned with what Randy assumed to be the school colors: emerald green, grey and crimson. A small image of some sort of bird (possibly a phoenix, Randy couldn't be sure) was staring back at him from the center of the crest.

He looked back at Brad, who was beside himself with pride. Apparently, he thought this was the best gift ever, and Randy (not for the first time) was reminded of just how alike Brad and their father were when it came to dolling out gifts at birthdays and holidays.

When Randy didn't speak, Brad's smile faltered.

"Don't you like it?" Brad asked, concerned. "There are two things in my life I care about, and that's soccer, and you. When you wear this ring—" Brad stopped to cover Randy's hands with his own, keeping the small box confined. "This ring symbolizes my love for soccer and when you wear it, it'll be like you're supporting me. It'll always keep us connected."

Randy grinned. "Well, at least until you graduate."

Brad smiled. "Well yeah, then I'll just have to win you some sort of championship ring then, won't I?"

Randy shook his head, but pulled Brad in for a kiss. Okay, so maybe this wasn't exactly a traditional diamond-studded wedding ring, but it was clear Brad had put a lot of effort and thought into this gift. When had he ordered this, anyways?

Just as he was about to ask, the waiter walked up to their table and Brad and Randy separated, returning towards their forgotten menus.

"We'll be needing just a few more minutes," Randy told the waiter, "it just all looks so good that I can't decide."

Brad snorted, and Randy swore he saw the waiter smother a soft chuckle.

"Of course," the waiter said, walking off.

* * *

By the end of dinner, Randy was still under the assumption that however nice this school ring was, it wasn't an engagement ring. Which begged the question, when _was_ Brad going to purpose? They had about two and a half months before the start of term, and they weren't married yet.

"You ready to go?" Brad asked, interrupting Randy's thoughts.

"Yeah, I am." Randy took one last drink of his coffee before standing up and slipping his coat on. He watched as Brad placed a ten-dollar bill on the table.

When they got to the front, a waiter opened the front door for them; they gave the man a quick nod. A blast of cold air made them shudder, and Brad took Randy's hand in his as they walked out towards their car.

"Thanks again for the ring," Randy said. His free hand gripped the small box tightly in his pocket. "How long ago did you order this? Had you already decided on going to U.C.? If all this," Randy motioned towards the city around him with his head, "hadn't happened, when were you going to tell me?"

Randy didn't have to think twice about _if_ Brad was going to bring Randy with him to college. It was a guarantee, but even if Randy were to be left behind, it's not like Randy would have actually stayed behind like a good little boy.

Married or no, they were stuck with each other for life.

They arrived at Brad's car in silence. Right when Randy was about to ask again, they noticed a small slip of paper had been placed under the windshield wiper on the driver's side of the car.

"What's it say?" Randy asked.

"Let's find out."

Brad let go of Randy's hand, and quickly plucked the note from its resting place.

 _Run  
\- M_

"Run?" Randy tilted his head. "Run from what? And who's this 'M' person?"

Brad remained silent, his gaze fixed on the note.

Randy placed his hand on his brother's shoulder. "Brad?"

"Change of plans," Brad said suddenly, crushing the note in his hand. "We're leaving, tonight."

"What? Where? Why?" Randy asked fervently. "What's going on Brad? What's—"

Brad silenced him with a kiss.

When they pulled apart, Randy had calmed down, but the questions were still burning in his head. Brad immediately dropped to his hands and knees, searching under the car for… something.

A minute later, Brad pulled out an envelope which had been duct taped to the base of the car. Brad placed the envelope in Randy's hands, kissing his lover's forehead in the process.

"I love you, Randy," Brad said.

Randy then got shooed to the passenger side of the car. After getting in the car and buckling up, he finally opened the envelope. Inside were two tickets to London Heathrow Airport (LHR) in London, England. Also included was a small reminder to take the Heathrow Express to Paddington station as a connection to their final destination (which wasn't named).

Before Randy could continue his line of questioning, Brad interjected.

"Do you trust me?"

"What does that have to do with anything?" Randy asked, but Brad only repeated his question. Randy looked again at the two plane tickets, then at his older brother.

"We both know I've been keeping things from you, but there isn't anything I can do right now, except…" Brad trailed off, taking a few moments to check his mirrors and start the car.

Once they were on the road, he continued.

"Do you trust me?"

There was more to this question than a simple answer of trust, much more, but Randy couldn't put his finger on it. When Randy remained silent, Brad started talking again.

"Those tickets are for 11 pm," Brad slowed the car down at the red light. "In two hours, we'll be on a flight to England. But I need you to answer me."

Brad looked directly into Randy's eyes. That's when it clicked; when Randy knew what Brad was asking.

Even though there were so many unanswered questions, so much Randy didn't understand… the only thing Randy knew for sure was that Brad was scared. To the disconcerting eye, he looked calm and collected as usual. But randy wasn't just anyone.

This time it was Randy's turn to lean over and kiss his lover on the lips. When Randy pulled back, he gave Brad what he hoped was a reassuring smile. As with the whirlwind of everything else that had happened in the past few weeks, Randy decided to just go with it.

He nodded in response to Brad's question.

"The airport isn't far away, and it shouldn't take long to pack up our things back at the—"

"No!" Brad shouted frantically.

When Randy shot him an odd glance, Brad tried to recompose himself.

"We can't." Brad pulled off to the side of the road. This time, it seemed he couldn't bring himself to look Randy in the face.

"Brad…"

"This never happened," Brad mumbled quietly. "All of this…"

"This what? Us?" Randy asked, beginning to panic.

"Oh god no!" Brad denied quickly. "No! Never that. Just…"

"Everything else?" Randy suggested.

Brad nodded quietly. Randy noticed his brother's hand beginning to shake. It was that fear again. Yet as much as Randy wanted to know the truth, he had resolved himself to trust Brad.

If playing in ignorance was what Brad wanted, then Randy would oblige.

Randy unbuckled his seatbelt and reached over the middle arm rest, wrapping his arms around Brad's neck. Randy tucked his head just under Brad's chin.

"Randy…?" Brad asked hesitantly. Randy didn't respond, merely waited for Brad to understand.

After a few minutes, Brad finally wrapped his arm around Randy's small body, tightening his hold as if afraid that Randy would slip away.

"I would follow you to the ends of the earth," Randy said.

That was all the answer Brad needed.


	7. Airport Interlude

**Notes** : This is a super short (transition) piece, because I wanted to post something after skipping the last two weeks.

 **BETA** : TheSupernova

* * *

 **Chapter 7: Airport Interlude**

* * *

"Stop sulking," Brad said, slapping Randy on the back of his head.

Randy glared at Brad.

"If that was your version of a pep talk, it didn't work," he said sarcastically.

"Then it wasn't," Brad replied.

"Wow, look who's being all mysterious now," Randy shot back. "Trying to act like Mr. Cool all of a sudden? Well I got news for you—James Bond you ain't."

"Shut up and cool down, Randy," Brad said.

"Ugh."

"You know I would tell you if I could, but I can't, so why don't you do something productive, like watch the rain fall, while I go to the bathroom?"

Randy sighed as he watched his older brother walk away. Their flight had been delayed due to weather; it was creeping up on hour four, and Randy was _bored_. The seats in the waiting area were made of hard plastic and impossible to lay across if one wanted to sleep, but were short enough that you couldn't lean back to relax either. He vaguely considered laying on the floor, but Randy didn't trust the airport carpeting to be all that sanitary.

Plus, the gift shop was closed and the free Wi-Fi in the airport was experiencing technical problems and currently unavailable. They had come straight from the restaurant to the airport, which meant they didn't have anything but their wallets and passports, which Brad had oddly kept in the glove compartment instead of at home with their luggage.

Almost as if Brad had—no. Randy refused to go there. He promised he wouldn't pry into these suspicious circumstances that were just begging his journalistic self to play 'connect the dots'. At this point, it was sheer willpower keeping Randy from dwelling on their current situation.

It wouldn't have been so bad if the only odd occurrence was that strange note on the hood of Brad's car and those plane tickets mysteriously appearing on the bottom of the car, but it wasn't.

When they had finally gotten past security, the waiting area near their gate was almost deserted. Randy counted three people, not including the nearby staff. Randy immediately headed towards the row of seats sitting across from the wall to ceiling windows overlooking the airport runway.

In the center laid a Polaroid photograph. Randy picked it up. The photo showed Randy and Brad as they passed through security. It was clearly taken without their knowledge. Before Randy could protest (loudly) about a possible stalker, Brad immediately yanked the photo from his brother, and slapped a hand over Randy's mouth.

Brad leaned in closer.

"Not. A. Word," Brad whispered. As Brad lowed his hand, Randy began to speak, but Brad stopped Randy before he could start. Brad narrowed his eyes.

"You promised. No if's, and's or…"

And that's why Randy found himself staring out the window, at the dark, grey sky spewing down rain and, more recently, thunder and lightning.

This was going to be a long night.

* * *

 **End Note** : The next chapter will be from Brad's POV and Mark will be making his second appearance. The mystery will deepen!


	8. Once a Pilot, Always a Pilot

**BETA** : TheSupernova

* * *

 **Chapter 8: Once a Pilot, Always a Pilot**

* * *

Once Brad was far enough away from the airport seating area, he slipped the photo from his pocket. The focus was on him and Randy, waiting at the end line for the security checkpoint. They were talking to each other, clearly unaware of the camera.

At first glance, the stalker element behind the photo seemed to be the point, but written on the back of the photo was the letter "M".

Brad looked closer at the background. Behind all the people in line, leaning against the wall, was a man in a black hoodie and dark sunglasses with short, black hair. He was making a peace sign with his left hand.

Upon closer inspection, the man was grinning. Brad knew who that was.

"M" had finally made his appearance.

* * *

After asking around, Brad finally found the covered, outdoor smoking area. Rain pounded on the glass ceiling and front windows. The sides of the area were open, blowing in the wind and rain. The area was long enough that the middle of the room was completely dry.

Brad found a man leaning against the back wall. He wasn't wearing the hoodie, instead a black, buttoned up peacoat with dark navy dress pants. Nicely pressed. The black dress shoes matched perfectly.

"Unusual to see you dressed up," Brad said.

The man looked over at him, taking off his glasses and slipping them in his pocket. He took a smoke from his joint.

"Brad," the man said.

"Mark," Brad responded. He threw the photo at his brother. "I got your calling card."

Mark briefly eyed the photo, but let it bounce off his coat and onto the floor.

"Didn't take long to find you," Brad replied. "So, to what do I owe the pleasure?"

Mark shrugged, and offered Brad the joint. Brad didn't move at first, but when it was clear Mark wasn't going to do anything until Brad accepted it, Brad eventually sighed, and accepted it from Mark's hands, taking a long drag. He exhaled the smoke slowly, before passing it back.

"Thanks," Brad said. "Now will you answer me?"

"Sure." Mark took another drag from his joint. "You were being followed, but I made sure security threw them out."

Mark shook his head. "I thought I had covered your tracks when you went to New York, but they found you anyways."

Brad leaned against the wall next to Mark. "What do they want?"

Mark snorted.

"Funny," he said. "What do you think they want? How many times do I have to explain it? They are after you because of me. I wanted to get out, but I was too high up in the ranks. The leaders think I ratted them out."

"Did you?" Brad asked.

"Yeah," Mark replied. "Most of them got away though. After a change in leadership, it's back to business. What can I say? Apparently, they don't like traitors."

Brad grinned, releasing a small chuckle.

"Not many do," Brad said. "The drug trade is pretty big business."

"No kidding."

"So why are you not locked up?" Brad asked.

"Because I never told them and there was no proof. The guys tried to pin the me as one of the drug sellers, but I had a good enough reputation around town that no one believed them."

This time, Brad couldn't help laughing out loud. "Oh god. How could they miss that?"

"I know, right?" Mark said. "What can I say? I'm just that good at covering my tracks. Most of the time."

"Right." That brought Brad back to the present. "That doesn't explain why you're here?"

"Doesn't it?"

The silence stretched out between them. Brad suddenly realized the rain had stopped. He looked up, and saw the dark, grey clouds starting to thin out.

Mark's cell jingled. He pulled it out, reading the text message. He typed out a response before putting it away.

"I have to go," Mark said. "Now that the storm has let up, the planes are back on schedule again. Not that our flight was delayed, but plenty of others were."

"Our?" Brad asked, suspicious.

Mark stubbed out his joint, pulling out a small cigarette case and putting the stub in aside a line of others.

"I do have a prescription for these, you know." Mark said. "Some of my stash _was_ legal."

Brad laughed. That information should have surprised him, but he knew Mark. His brother had issues, which was mostly an understatement.

Mark stood up, and for the first time, Brad realized his brother had been holding a hat against his side. It looked like a captain's hat.

Mark grinned. He put on the hat, and saluted Brad with his left hand. "Time to get back to work."

Brad looked at Mark, deadpan.

"Right," he said sarcastically. "Like you actually work here."

They walked over to the door leading inside, and when Mark opened it, they heard Mark's name being called on the loud speaker.

 _"—to gate 2. Mark Taylor to gate 2."_

"Ugh," Mark pulled out his phone, and texted someone. After a moment, he put his phone away, and shrugged in apology to Brad. "Steve is impatient. I keep telling him he needs to take something for that anxiety of his."

The loud speaker chimed in again.

 _"Now boarding flight 253 for Great Britain. Now boarding flight 253 for Great Britain."_

Once they were both inside the airport, Mark unbuttoned his jacket to reveal a navy-blue pilot's uniform. Mark turned to his brother.

"What did you think I was doing in my spare time?"

Brad opened his mouth to respond, but Mark put up his hand.

"Don't answer that," Mark said. "To be fair, I was more a… courier in the drug trade."

Brad facepalmed internally. He had almost forgotten that Mark had been training to be a pilot. Mark never said anything about it, so Brad assumed it was more of a hobby but...

"Aren't you a little young to be a pilot?"

"Right, but I've logged more hours than most of the pilots around here." Mark said.

When the intercom called Mark again, he shook his head.

"I do have to go, but I'll meet you at the gate," Mark said. "You'll get to meet my co-pilot, Steve Manners."

"The anxious one. Right," Brad responded offhandedly.

"Now you're getting it."

Brad watched Mark walk in the opposite direction of the gate. Probably to the staff room. Well, Brad sure hadn't seen _that_ one coming.

* * *

 **End Notes** : Mark became a commercial airline pilot because I said so. #IgnoringReality


End file.
